


Changes

by wowza



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Boys In Love, Emotional Baggage, Future Fic, Idiots in Love, M/M, POV Hinata Shouyou, Post-Canon, Reconciliation, i literally cant with these boys i swear to god, kageyama just graduated from college, lots of feelings, post breakup, they haven't seen each other in YEARS, volleyball player kageyama, working hinata
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26016667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowza/pseuds/wowza
Summary: When I first ran into him as a scrappy, twerpy middle schooler,  I had been wholly unprepared in every sense of the word. Eight years later, it seemed that little had changed.A part of me wanted nothing more than for him to leave, to get out of the store and go somewhere I would never ever have to look at him again. But another part of me, equally fierce, deflated at the thought because I knew that it wasn’t just possible, but probable. I handed him back his card along with the plastic bag of groceries.“Welcome home, Kageyama-san.”...Kageyama returns to Miyagi after graduating from the University of Tokyo.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Kudos: 16





	Changes

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I've been working so hard on this fic, I really hope you like it. Please feel free to drop a comment if you want, I really love reading them. Enjoy~

Kageyama Tobio re-entered my life the same way he had first crashed into it: without warning. It was a predictably unspectacular day, as most days in Miyagi were when my biggest concern in life was restocking the snack aisle and my principal driving force was a paycheck. The glorious rush of boyish excitement that had colored my youth was mostly forgotten, laid to rest for the sake of practicality. 

Sunlight streamed in through open windows and bounced off the foil packages stacked atop the many shelves of Sakanoshita Store, forming twinkling constellations too bright and glaring without the buffer of the night sky. I was spending my day manning the cash register, a task that was maddening enough without having to squint away from the blinding reflections and agonize in the humid fog. 

An arsenal of fans pushed up against the walls created a bizarre-looking patchwork of shapes and colors, but did little to combat the sweltering summer heat that seeped into the store and bloomed against my flushed skin. The assortment managed only to create a hypnotic  _ whirring _ that danced against the oppressive weather and melted into the sounds of buzzing freezers and muffled outdoor chatter. If it wasn’t so hot, the sound probably would have lulled me right to sleep. 

Coach Ukai- known to me as Keishin after several years of working together- had been gracious enough to help me get a job at his family’s store soon after it became apparent that I wasn’t going to be leaving Miyagi any time soon. I mean, it wasn’t exactly the incredible post-graduation gig I had envisioned; but it was kind of him to take me under his wing and all things considered, I had little to complain about. The pay was decent enough to put food on the table for me and Natsu, and the work was fairly easy, if not tedious at times. 

I’ve always been a pretty social person, so one of the great joys of working at Sakanoshita was making small talk with the many friendly faces that passed through. But it was a Friday afternoon and the store was empty, leaving me without distractions to counteract the fidgety restlessness that came with standing still for such a long time. Children were in school, parents were at work; the sun hung high in the sky, so mothers and grandmothers would likely wait for the intensity of its many rays to subside before leaving the house to do any necessary shopping. I was bored, plain and simple. I wanted to run through the summer sunshine, to live a carefree life as I once had; but brotherly duty and several years of routine worked to pacify the familiar urge.

The promising  _ ding _ of the shop bell rang out from the glass door, tugging me out of hazy daydreams and back into the present. I plastered on my obligatory ‘greeting customers’ smile and swiveled around to wave hello to whoever had just come inside. 

“Welcome to Sakanoshita! Let me know if I can help you find anything.”

The customer looked over at me. Of all the Miyagi locals I would have been prepared to see standing there among the soft drinks and frozen food, I certainly wasn’t expecting it to be him. Nevertheless, there he was: Kageyama Tobio in the flesh, looking like he had just seen a ghost. When his stormy eyes landed on mine, he nearly dropped the package of crackers he was holding, calloused hands swooping down at the last moment to rescue them before they hit the floor. I probably would have laughed if it had been anyone else. 

“Kageyama-san,” I blurted, stunned. It wasn’t much of a greeting, but the mere acknowledgement of his presence seemed monumental enough, given the circumstances. The honorific sounded foreign coming out of my mouth; it had been years since I saw him last and longer still since I ever felt the need to call him ‘Kageyama-san.’

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but stopped and flashed me a nervous little wave instead. For a moment I wondered if he was actually just some heat-induced mirage that would vanish the second I looked away, but I didn’t want to stare so I averted my gaze, settling on the register instead. I tried to make myself look busy so he could finish gathering up whatever he had come here in search of, so I buried my face in a magazine I had already read cover-to-cover twice before, picking anxiously at my thigh under the table. 

When I first ran into him as a scrappy, twerpy middle schooler, I had been wholly unprepared in every sense of the word. Eight years later, it seemed that little had changed. I still had no idea how I was supposed to handle myself around him. I squeezed my eyes shut, as if I could will away the situation by concentrating hard enough, only to open them and find the familiar shock of jet-black hair still poking out from the back aisle. 

He was dressed casually: a plain maroon t-shirt and black athletic shorts with a white stripe going down the side that made his legs look like they were a mile long. He looked good. The regret of not having put more effort into appearance tugged at me, however ridiculous the notion might have been. His hair was a little shorter than he tended to keep it when we were younger; and I distinctly remember thinking he would never need me to brush his bangs out of his eyes ever again,  _ not that it would have been appropriate anyways _ . I folded my hands under the counter. 

My fingers fidgeted nervously with the hem of my shirt as he started to approach the cash register. I could already tell this was going to be awkward. I had played hundreds of versions of our dramatic reunion out in my head, but any residual resentment I would have expected to resurface was decidedly offset by the absolute disbelief that I was really face-to-face with him after nearly four years of time apart. I had no idea what I was supposed to say, and by the way he was looking at me, lips pressed together, I could tell it was mutual. 

For a heavy moment, we just stared at each other, forgetting where we were and what was happening. I certainly forgot I was supposed to be scanning his groceries. 

“Hinata-san.” He was the first one to slice through the silence. “You’re looking well.”

Against my best efforts, I flushed. “Thanks,” I muttered into the sticky air. Shining with sweat, apron dirty, and wild hair pulled out of my face with a hideous green headband, I knew it wasn’t true.

“So, you’re in Miyagi,” I remarked, the unasked question of ‘why?’ lingering between us like smoke. I peeled my eyes away from him, ducking my head so I could start ringing up the small assortment of items he had placed on the counter. 

When I noticed the small carton of GunGun yogurt, I almost felt like I was going to get all choked up over it, which just made me feel like an idiot. What did it matter that it was the same kind he would always get from the vending machines at school?

Kageyama hadn’t made the trip back to Miyagi in years; or if he had I wasn't aware of it. Every once in a while, his mother would stop by Sakanoshita, picking up a couple pieces of fruit or something sweet to drink. She was a tall, slender woman who was so friendly, I could never quite believe she managed to pop out such an awkward and reserved son. She’d chatter on and on about how well Kageyama was doing, how busy he was and how he was always up in Tokyo because he had volleyball practice, even during school breaks. I never had the heart to tell her I would rather hear her talk about anything else, even though she really should have known better. Tiptoeing around her offers to have me and Natsu over for dinner had become something of a routine. 

“I had some time off. Figured I should finally come home,” Kageyama explained, moving his arms as if to gesture at the nothingness around him. The nothingness that was Miyagi. 

“Time off?” I raised an eyebrow at him, cocking my head slightly to the left.

“I graduated a couple weeks ago, so I’m not playing for the university. There’s like a month before national team tryouts so I’m here for the long weekend before things start to really pick up.”

_ Graduation. _ The word rang in my ears like he was screaming it at me. Our month together at the University of Tokyo felt like it was just yesterday; it was almost impossible to believe that Kageyama had already spent a full four years there.  _ God, I’m getting old.  _

“Congratulations, Kageyama-san,” I managed to choke out, offering him a weak smile as I gently placed each of his items into a white plastic bag, feeling the past get further and further away. The crack in my voice betrayed the composure I was trying to maintain, but he either didn’t notice or purposefully ignored it, for which I was immensely grateful. 

“Thanks.”

It was almost comforting to know that he hadn’t gotten much better at small-talk, but I wondered with distaste when we had reached the point where it was necessary. It felt unnatural to be communicating with him like this; every word was so  _ intentional _ . It felt as if we had put on masks, play-acting that we were strangers trying to have a conversation when in reality I knew that we were anything but. 

I half-expected him to pull off the mask, mumbling something like  _ ‘that was weird,’ _ and toss me a volleyball right in the middle of Sakanoshita. I half-expected him to lean across the counter and kiss me. I half-expected myself to do the same. Instead, he just drummed his fingers against his leg and I clasped my hands safely behind my back. 

“So when are you heading out?”

“Monday.” He handed me his debit card. 

It was weird listening to Kageyama explain his life to me because historically, I would have never had to ask. Years ago, if I had asked him what he had been up to, he would have rolled his eyes and given me a strange look before reminding me of some volleyball match, math test, or midnight adventure that I had already known about because I was there. 

A part of me wanted nothing more than for him to leave, to get out of the store and go somewhere I would never ever have to look at him again. But another part of me, equally fierce, deflated at the thought because I knew that it wasn’t just possible, but probable. I handed him back his card along with the plastic bag of groceries. 

“Welcome home, Kageyama-san.”

* * *

I spent a day-and-a-half trying not to think about Kageyama. Well,  _ really _ I had spent almost four years trying not to think about him; but after the run-in at Sakanoshita, it had become considerably more difficult. 

My head pounded with questions I didn’t particularly want to know the answers to and my heart ached with feelings that had lain dormant for ages, now managing to bubble up over the edges. I was a mess at work, dropping boxes and tripping over my own feet too much to be useful. When I was tasked with restocking the GunGun yogurt, the menacing pinpricks of unshed tears showed up uninvited, proving to be a formidable enemy, harder to defeat than even the most skilled volleyball team. 

Of course seeing Kageyama would have me acting like this; four years down the road and he still had some indescribable power over me. He might as well have just taken a fucking sledgehammer to my dignity.  _ Maybe it’s just the heat that’s making me act so weird,  _ I tried lying to myself. I wish it was even halfway believable. 

I considered texting him, but the mere thought of reaching out had me paralyzed in a cocktail of fear and humiliation before I could even properly entertain the idea. And what was I even supposed to say, anyways?  _ Hey Kageyama, I know things have been kind of weird ever since my mom died and we broke each other’s hearts, but now I’m acting all kinds of crazy cause you bought some fucking yougurt and I don’t know what to do about it.  _

A part of me wanted to lock myself in my house and stay inside until Tuesday evening when I could be sure I was safe, when I knew for certain nothing terrible was going to happen, like bumping into him around town. Another part of me wanted to drive past his house like some kind of stalker and see if I could catch another glimpse of him.  _ What the fuck _ . 

Either way, no matter what I wanted or was afraid of, I couldn’t do either of those things because I had a job to show up to and a kid sister to take care of. I tucked my phone away into my back pocket.  _ It wouldn’t be worth it. It’s not like he ever checks his phone anyways.  _

Kageyama was not the most important person in my life, not anymore, and I could let my last remaining shreds of sanity slip through my fingers. If I ran into him, so what? It had happened the other day and the world was still turning.

I learned a long time ago that you can’t press the pause button on life, not ever. I couldn’t obsess over him or hide away until he was gone; I needed to move on like I  _ thought _ I had done years before. Everything was still normal, nothing had changed, and the world wasn’t going to end, even if it felt like it really might. And when he texted me, it felt like it really might.

I was scrubbing through the freezer doors when a little  _ ding _ emanated out from my back pocket, piercing through the still air. I glanced at the screen.

‘Hinata,’ is all it said at first. Never before had the mere sight of my own name been able to knock the wind out of me with such force; for a moment I stood there dumbly, unable to move. ‘This is Kageyama,’ he followed up a minute later, as if I didn’t know. As if I had deleted his number from my phone in some kind of drunken rampage or tear-laden mental detox. I felt unsteady, like the tile floor was going to open up and swallow me whole. 

Either way, the text was a statement, not a question, so I struggled to find the words to respond. It was such typical Kageyama fashion to do something like this, it made me want to bang my head against the wall until I could achieve some nirvanic state of self-induced amnesia that could blissfully wipe away eight years of memories. He used to always text me empty statements like this, hollow phrases that were meaningless to the untrained eye. I could always figure out what lay just beneath the surface without much difficulty; but now it seemed I had lost my knack for it. 

‘That’s me.’ God, it was such a dumb thing to say; but I was scared that if I didn’t respond right away he would put down his phone and never see it.  _ Why am I acting so desperate? He’s the one reaching out to me.  _

‘What are you doing today?’  _ Since when has he ever spelled out all the words in a text? Since when has he ever used proper punctuation? _

‘Working.’  _ And thinking about you. Missing you. Trying to remember how you smell. The usual _ . I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth. 

‘Can you take off?’ I was so shocked by the question, I forgot to be offended and I forgot to be flattered. The sheer audacity was honestly kind of impressive. I was working hard to make a living so I could support myself and my sister; I wasn’t the same teenager who would go around skipping classes without a second thought to run off to some half-baked romantic escapade that always happened to end with us getting in trouble. 

This was the real world; I had real responsibilities. He really was delusional if he thought I was going to drop everything for some unknown reason. 

‘No.’ It was the right thing to do, shutting him down like this, but every second after hitting send felt like an hour of agony. I thought he wasn’t going to respond, that this would be the last I ever heard from him, running into him only on the opposite side of a television screen as he became the star of the national volleyball team. ‘But I’m working the morning shift. I get off at 2,’ I quickly tacked on. I have no idea what possessed me to hit send; it was like my fingers had a mind of their own. My heart began to race. 

‘We should hang out.’ I wasn’t a genius or anything, but I was at least smart enough to know, logically, that we absolutely should  _ not _ . Not in a million years. It might actually have been the worst idea I had ever heard before in all my 22 years of life. 

‘Sure. You can pick me up.’

* * *

_ What the fuck was I thinking? _ My fingers shook as I hung up my apron, clocked out, and made my way out the doors of Sakanoshita. I was really going to see Kageyama again.  _ On purpose.  _ What the implications of that really were, I wasn’t entirely sure; but I did know there was no way my brain was working properly. 

It was still hot out, which was to be expected, but the humidity had mostly subsided and a soft breeze floated through the air and against my skin. It was nice. Kageyama was standing next to his car silently, looking down at his phone as he waited. It was 2:00 on the dot, but I knew he used to show up early to pretty much everything, so I had no idea how long he had been waiting. 

“Hey.” I flashed him a shy smile and a little wave. I still had no idea what the hell I was doing, how the hell I was supposed to act around him. He looked up like he was surprised to see me, which was kind of ridiculous considering he was the one who had reached out in the first place. 

“Hinata-san, hey. How was work?”  _ Hinata-san _ . I wished he would stop calling me that already. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and I could tell he was nervous. I was too, of course, but I was just a little better at hiding it. 

“It was okay,” I answered honestly. “Work is work, you know?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding, even though I didn't think he really  _ did _ know. How could he? His ‘work’ was playing the sport he had been obsessed with since childhood, sharing a court with some of the most incredible young players in Japan. He probably had no idea what a ‘work is work’ mentality really felt like. 

“So where to?” I asked him as I walked around to the other side of his car, hopping into the passenger seat. “I see you finally got your driver’s license.” The last time I saw him, he was an absolutely horrible driver, too stiff and impatient and distractible. It was something I was always far too eager to tease him about, just to annoy him and see him all embarrassed and flushed. 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not entirely sure,” he said, as if he hadn’t really believed we would get this far. We sat silently for a moment. Where exactly are you supposed to go to hang out with your ex-boyfriend who you half-hated and half-never got over? There wasn’t exactly an instruction manual for this type of thing that we could open up to make sure we were following protocol. 

“We could go to the school,” I suggested, regretting the words the second they passed through my lips. The school was a little close-to-home, had a little too much history. But it was Sunday after all, so the grounds would be empty. I wanted to be alone with him, that much I knew. If anyone saw us together I wouldn’t want to have to answer any questions. The thought of someone coming into Sakanoshita and mentioning that they had seen us together made me feel like I was going to explode. 

“Sure.”

* * *

The drive to the school was quiet, but not altogether unpleasant. Kageyama had always been a pretty quiet guy, so it’s not like I was expecting some riveting conversation or anything; but I still couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking as he pulled up into the lot near the gym. 

_ Chill out _ , I thought to myself, puffing out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding in. When I went to undo my seatbelt, my hands were shaking like I was some nervous little kid. He looked over at me but didn’t comment on it, instead offering me a semi-awkward kind of half-smile that would have looked absolutely ridiculous on any other face. 

He reached his hand up the ignition, twisting and pulling at the keys before stuffing them in his pocket. It was weirdly graceful, and I watched with childlike awe as I waited with my hands folded in my lap. 

We got out of the car at the same time and I smiled as I looked over and noticed his shitty parking job, his right wheels nearly a foot over the straight white line. There wasn’t anyone else around though, so I figured it wasn’t worth pointing out. 

We made our way over to the building and slowly started walking around the perimeter of the school, like we were on autopilot. I smiled as we passed the doors to the gym.  _ Muscle memory _ was a phrase that Ukai had barked at us relentlessly during practices until it was practically drilled into the back of our heads. When we were sweaty and tired, it had seemed like a load of bullshit, an excuse to get us to do the same tedious exercises over and over again. Realizing we were stopped at our old lunch spot, I figured there must have been something to it, after all. 

Stuck somewhere between overwhelming nostalgia and the sudden urge to vomit, I offered him a sheepish smile, as if to say  _ oops! _ I could tell he was similarly surprised at where we had ended up, but he just shrugged and sat cross-legged on the grass.  _ It was just like old times,  _ I allowed myself to think as I followed suit. I could have a little self-torment, as a treat. 

“It feels kind of wrong that you don’t have something for me to try and steal,” I said, breaking the silence. He let out a little laugh, and just like that the tension between us faded. 

“Really interesting that you never wanted anything to eat unless it was mine.”

“Hey, sharing is caring!”

“Yeah, and theft is a crime.”

His deadpan humor was a little less biting and a little more playful; I could tell he had grown to be a more social person than he had once been. College will do that to a person, apparently. It was easy like this, and for the first time in years I allowed myself to acknowledge how much I had really missed him. Boyfriend or not, he had been my best friend before all of that; I used to live with him for christ’s sake, even if it was short lived. 

“You’re such a drama queen, Kageyama. I guess some things never change, even after four years.” There it was: the acknowledgement of all the time we had spent apart. Now that I had brought it up, it was impossible to keep pretending it was just another day, like we were in high school, having lunch together like everything was normal. 

He breathed out a laugh, but it was more awkward than humorous, even though what I said was meant to be a joke. I felt kind of bad when he looked away from me. “Well, a lot of things have changed.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I can only assume it’s the same for you.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Well, I… think about you sometimes. A lot, really. I’m sure it kinda seems like I don’t, but I do. So when I saw you the other day I really wanted to know, like, how you’re doing or whatever.”

“Oh.” I racked my brain. I didn’t want to make it sound like I had a totally boring life, even if it was mostly true. He was my ex after all: ex-boyfriend, ex-rival; it was only natural to feel a little competitive, even though he was clearly the one with the better life. He was up in Tokyo living the dream, about to try out for the national volleyball team; I couldn’t help but feel inferior. 

“Things are okay.” I forced a smile. “You saw me at Sakanoshita. It’s not like I’m some big volleyball star or anything, but it’s not too bad.”  _ God, could I make the resentment any clearer?  _ “But I mean, I’ve also got Natsu to take care of.” My smile turned genuine at the mention of my little sister. “You wouldn’t believe how much she’s grown, if you saw her.”

“I bet.”

“She’s not that seven-year-old kid anymore. Can you believe she’s in middle school now? And god, she’s so smart! I guess I know where all the family intelligence went.” I couldn’t stop myself from gushing; I had been raising Natsu single-handedly for the past few years, so I couldn’t help the parental pride that swelled in my chest whenever I talked about her. Now that our mom was gone, I was really all she had left; and the bond between us had grown to be so much stronger. 

“Last time I saw her, she was clinging onto my leg.” Kageyama chuckled, smiling fondly at the memory. “Remember that?”

“Oh my god, she was practically begging you to stay. I think she was more sad to see you go than me! I was honestly kind of offended.” I was joking, of course; Natsu’s little crush on Kageyama was absolutely hilarious, if not the tiniest bit annoying. That was the day we left for college- Kageyama had dropped by the house so we could leave for the train station together, but Natsu wouldn’t stop crying and clinging to him, like it was the end of the world. We really thought we were starting our future together. In a way we were, we just didn’t get to finish it. 

“I’d be surprised if she even remembers me.” He looked a little sad as he said this, which was honestly kind of comforting, in a way. Like their weird little friendship had actually meant something to him. 

“Are you kidding? She was practically in love with you. Maybe even more than I was.”

I was expecting an uncomfortable silence, but he only laughed, unbothered. Like the insinuation that anything could top my love for him was ridiculous in every sense. 

“How is your girlfriend?”

I froze. “My what?”

“Will she be upset that you’re here with me?”

I most certainly did not have a girlfriend. And even if I did, it’s not like I would have told Kageyama about it.

“Considering I’ve been single for over two years, I don’t think anyone’s going to mind.”

“Oh. Sorry,” he muttered, flushed. 

“Where’d you get the idea I was dating someone?” I raised an eyebrow at him, prodding him lightly with my pointer finger. “Were you Facebook stalking me or something?”

He scoffed, but the light blush dusting his face betrayed him. “I like to see what everyone’s up to now and again. That’s normal,” he defended. 

“You must have scrolled back pretty far if you were seeing pictures of me and Nami-chan,” I teased. “That’s kind of creepy, Kageyama.”

“Whatever,” he dismissed, “like you’ve never done the same.”

“Maybe I would, if you ever cared enough to post something. You haven’t made a single post since I used to take your phone and do it for you.”

“Hey, I’m a busy guy! And you know I’m no good at that stuff.”

“Oh, I  _ know _ . Trust me.” Getting Kageyama to send a coherent text was difficult enough; but getting him to use social media was damn near impossible. He was like a total grandpa; his complete helplessness when it came to electronics used to drive me nuts, even if it was kind of cute.

“So who’s this Nami-chan?”

“Chinami Kobayashi- my ex-girlfriend. I’m assuming that’s the girl you saw all over my page. The whole dating thing didn’t work out, but we’re still great friends, though.”

He snickered. “Of course you are. You’re friends with everyone.”

“What are you talking about? I am  _ not _ friends with everyone!”

“Yeah dude, you are. Even our biggest rivals- you’d always end up friends with them one way or another. I could never understand it.”

“I never became friends with rivals! You know how competitive I am.”

“You became friends with me, didn’t you?”

“That’s different!” It was, and he knew it. 

“Did you text Oikawa on his birthday?”

I groaned, flopping down on the grass. It’s not like he was accusing me of something  _ bad _ per se, having a lot of friends, but it was still embarrassing because of how right he was. 

“Well?” He peered down at me expectantly. 

“I mean-”

“Oh my god! I was joking, but you totally did!” He threw his head back in easy laughter, his left hand clutching at his ribs. He was so quiet back in high school, and moments like this were few and far between. I wondered how many people had seen him laugh like this, joyful and uninhibited, since he had been away in Tokyo. He looked beautiful. 

“Whatever!”

“Hey, no need to get so defensive! It’s great that you make friends so easily. It’s actually one of my favorite things about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You know I’ve always been shit at that.”

I wanted to know what else he liked about me. I wanted him to crawl on top of me and tell me all his favorite things, showering me in his praise and never, ever stopping. It felt too good to ever get tired of. 

We sat there for a moment, just smiling at each other. I was expecting him to push me away, grumbling something like  _ quit staring at me, dumbass _ or  _ you always make things weird _ , like he would have done some other time. But the soft, silent acknowledgement of each other was warmer, carried with it a maturity that was seldom seen when we were just two idiots running around with feelings too big and too new to know how to handle. 

He knew about Nami-chan, and I wanted to ask if he was dating anyone, too; but I let the question die on my tongue as I realized I didn’t really want to know. I wasn’t sure I could handle it if the answer was yes, even if I had no right to be upset. It’s not like I had any claim to his heart, not anymore. Our lives, once haphazardly knotted together, were now completely separate. 

“Do you remember the last time we were here?” He asked, suddenly, his voice pulling me out of my thoughts. 

I did, of course, but I half-considered lying, telling him I had no idea what he was talking about just so he would feel the need to remind me. “Of course I do,” I said instead. It felt disrespectful to all we had been through to play dumb. 

I had been near the very end of high school, summer poking its shimmering head out from around the corner. Back then, college was the very next step to accomplishing our dreams, not a spector lurking in the back of my memories, tormenting me. “You almost gave me a heart attack. You’re very impulsive, you know.”

He was trying to act casual, but the nonchalant front was betrayed by the far-off, almost dreamy look in his eyes. “Impulsive? I had been thinking about doing that for weeks.”

_ “Tobio, if I see the quadratic formula one more time I think I’m going to scream.” I was only half joking. The offending math textbook lay oppressively in my lap as I slumped dramatically against the brick wall, puffing out a sigh. It was the last day of regular classes before exams started and the two of us, ever the procrastinators, were trying to use the lunch period to get in some last-minute studying. I didn’t feel like I was understanding Calculus any better than I had before, so all it really managed to accomplish was frustrating me further. I was an athlete, not a scholar!  _

_ We sat together in our usual lunch spot, shoulders brushing against each other as we tried (failed) to focus on schoolwork. The grass felt warm underneath my calves, but not as warm as the spot where we were touching. Other students littered the field, enjoying the beautiful weather; most of them clumped together in small groups and occasionally a couple students would walk through the space, making their way to other areas of the school.  _

_ “Tobiooo,” I whined, trying to steal his attention away from the English textbook he was currently buried in. I had only spent about 20 minutes without being the center of his attention, but that was already far too long for me to feel anything but cranky.  _

_ He looked up at me and gave me that barely-there smile of his before peering down at the book on his lap.  _

_ “Let me see.” _

_ I groaned and snapped the textbook shut, shoving it off my lap and turning to face him fully. “Come on Bakageyama, this is pointless. You’re even worse than I am!” _

_ “Hey! I’m just trying to help dumbass.” _

_ “I’m sick of this crap,” I said, deflating. I tugged on a stray lock of his hair, just to be annoying. “When we’re playing volleyball in Tokyo it’s not going to matter whether or not I can figure out the square root of X.” _

_ “Which you can’t” _

_ “Shut up!” I pushed him away, trying to feign malice, but my laughter betrayed me. _

_ “We can’t play volleyball at University of Tokyo unless we actually get into the school, so let me see that book.” He reached across my torso, fingers just barely grazing the cover before I snatched it up, laughing as I tucked it under my legs.  _

_ “I’m tired of studying!” _

_ “Come on, idiot.” _

_ “No!” _

_ I brought a hand up to his chest, intending to push him off of me, but the easy amusement melted away almost instantly once I noticed how close our faces were. We were practically nose-to-nose; and I could feel his hot breath against my flushed cheeks as his icy eyes stared deeply into mine. I was frozen, and my hand that was pressed firmly to his left pectoral slipped as if it had lost it’s conviction, resembling more of a pathetic caress.  _

_ Something unreadable flashed across his face and before I knew what was happening, his lips were pressing into mine, gentle but sure. At first I fell into him, bringing my right hand up to the back of his neck. Over the years it had become instinct to react like this, but after the first few moments of haze, I froze, yanking on his hair to get him away from me.  _

_ “What the hell are you thinking, dumbass?!” I was flushed tomato red, glancing around at the other students. Most of them weren’t paying us any attention, too caught up in their own conversations to notice, but a handful of people were looking over at us, shocked. Two boys started to laugh, which kind of made me want to jump off a cliff.  _

_ Kageyama kissed me, right in front of everyone. We had never kissed in front of anyone before, and we had certainly never kissed at school (apart from the occasional post-practice makeout session after all the other boys had cleared out of the locker room).  _

_ “Come on, we’re never going to see these assholes ever again. Can’t I kiss my boyfriend on the last day of school?” His eyes were wide and eager as he looked down at me. I could tell he meant what he was saying, but he was still worried he had genuinely upset me. God, this boy was going to be the death of me. I was only 17, but I could already tell.  _

_ “Jesus, Tobio. Of course you can. Come here.” _

_ He leaned in again, but stopped right as his lips brushed against mine. After a couple heavy breaths, I closed the distance, capturing his lips in a sweet but passionate kiss. The kiss was much more gentle this time, but he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and held me tight against him, like he was scared I would try to run away. I smiled against him. In that moment, I was crazy stupid in love and crazy stupid happy.  _

_ “I would never stop kissing you, if I could,” I whispered to him once we finally pulled away. _

_ “Shut up, dumbass.” _

I looked out at the surrounding field. It was empty now, except for the rows of summer buttercups poking through the grass and the weight of Sunday vacancy. Everything in life was so high-stakes back then; every volleyball match or math test or stolen kiss felt like it could make or break me. Maybe it could, and maybe I kind of liked that, but it was still nice to sit here with him, surrendering myself to a well-deserved moment of peace that I knew couldn’t really last. 

I had finally started to untangle the mess of adult life after a couple years of near-hopelessness. Things were comfortable for me, more or less, and that alone was enough to make me restless. With the renewed sense of nostalgia that was inherent in venturing too deep into the past came the reminder that nothing of any real consequence happened to me anymore. Life was cyclical and separate; nothing bled into anything else. Maybe there was no real consequence all along, even back in high school, but we had been young and stupid enough to convince ourselves that there was. That was enough for me, at least. 

“Sometimes I wish I could go back in time.” He was choosing his words carefully, I could tell. Testing the waters. “Before everything started changing so much.”

I considered this for a moment, then took a deep breath. I leaned against the brick wall of the building where I had fallen in love and stretched my legs into the grass like I had done hundreds of times before. He followed suit. 

“I was changing then, too,” I finally said, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with him. I was always changing, always growing up. It’s something we used to do together. “Even if my mom never died and I never left Tokyo, I don’t think I’d be the same as I was.” I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to say, but it felt true so I let it tumble out of me. 

“Yeah, I know.”

After a couple silent breaths, I rested my head against his shoulder, something I used to do without thinking about what it meant. I felt him shift underneath my cheek and I flinched as if I had been burned, thinking he was moving away from me before feeling the warmth of his arm draped around my shoulder. Maybe it was only because he had been home for a couple of days, but he smelled the same as he always did. It almost made me want to cry. I took a deep breath, taking it all in, grateful that not  _ everything _ had changed. 

_ Things were so simple back then _ . I let the thought pass through me but left it unsaid. I knew it wasn’t true; but sitting here pressed against him, thinking back to the last time we sat in this field, laughing and kissing under the summer sun, that’s how it feels. Back then we were Shouyou and Tobio; we carried with us everything we thought we were going to become, not the pain of things we wish could have happened differently.  _ I would give anything to go back _ . 

“I really missed you,” he said. I let myself believe it. 


End file.
